


Case 200: The Adventure Of Mr. Wolf's Gold (1902)

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [256]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Edwardian, Bank Robbery, Corruption, Cuddling & Snuggling, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, France (Country), Gay Sex, Johnlock - Freeform, London, M/M, Panties, Trauma, Untold Cases of Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: ֍ The now grown Mr. Peter Wolf returns to ask for Sherlock's help a second time – once again for his utterly disreputable father despite the latter's apparent determination to traumatize his poor son. And a woman does not end up in the coal-bunker, worse luck.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Northern_Gryphon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Gryphon/gifts).



_[Narration by Mr. Peter Wolf, Esquire]_

Into every life, they say, a little rain must fall. And this latest downpour started one morning over breakfast when my beloved Edie read me something out of the newspaper which, I was soon to realize, might have some very unpleasant consequences for someone I loved dearly. Despite everything.

“There has been a robbery at Dunston's Bank”, she said. “A large number of gold bars has been taken.”

She fixed our eldest son Peterson with a look across the breakfast-table which had the boy blushing and looking guiltily at his brother Edward, with whom he had most likely been about to get into yet another argument. I sometimes wondered if she had psychic powers the way she did that, although I was more concerned about the fact she was less than a month or so from adding number seven to our brood. And worse, that she was actually considering the name 'Septimus'!

“That is bad”, I said. 

She turned the look on me. I made a mental note to get the fire sorted; it was far too cold all of a sudden.

“Was that not the place where your father has his pension money invested?” she asked.

Oh. That _was_ bad.

֍

It had been all of twenty years. I had been a fourteen-year-old boy and Colt – Mr. Colgrevance Hamlin - had come into my and my father's lives. Then of course he had been that rarest of things, a gentleman applying to a job traditionally done by a lady, and my father had nearly had a fit when he had turned up for his interview (I suppose when the molly-man that you pay for sex turns up and offers to look after your son.... yes). Fortunately I had been able to persuade my father to employ the fellow and it had not taken me long to realize a) there was definitely something between them which was rather more than the..... thing I desperately did not want to think about, and b) the chances of either of them actually _doing_ anything about it were as remote as that giant planet they thought was somewhere out beyond Neptune†. 

Fortunately at least one member of the household had had sense. I had approached the clever Mr. Sherlock Holmes who it turned out had helped Colt before and, by devious tactics, the detective had engendered a jealousy in my father that had made him declare his true feelings. 

Unfortunately I had then had to endure nearly a decade of the two of them making cow-eyes at each other at every opportunity (and several sights that no teenage boy should have _ever_ been subjected to no matter how bad he may or may not have been on a very small number of occasions) before I could marry and flee the house, but they had always been considerate of my feelings and having both of them at my marriage over a decade ago had been wonderful. 

Calling in unexpectedly on them on my return from my honeymoon and finding Doctor Watson treating my father for an ankle injury, and seeing both Colt's uncalled-for smirk and the hickey on my father's neck that could probably be seen from the Moon – not so wonderful! Ugh! But I could overlook that because I had never seen my father look as happy as when he was with Colt, who truly loved him even if he smirked far too much over.... things.

My wife was most probably right about the bank robbery – she was right on most things – so I decided to call round and see if everything was all right. I knew that Father would be at work but Colt would be home as he worked only part-time at the local library (as I had expected Father had insisted he give up his 'second job' once things had become Serious between the two of them). My wife was I knew not completely happy with what she called the Arrangement between Colt and my father but she accepted it because she knew I did. Besides, she had made five shillings off me that time when they had come downstairs at our wedding looking as if.... they really were terrible!

I found Colt looking unusually worried. He was fifty-two now, still handsome but with his hair almost uniformly silver. Neither he nor my father had ever had much in the way of looks but they loved each other and that was what really mattered. Even if Colt had a hickey that meant my father.... as I said, terrible.

“This bank thing is bad, Peter”, he said gravely. “Your father may be ruined!”

I was shocked.

“How?” I asked. “I thought that he was doing well?”

“You remember the financial crash last year?” he said. “Your father lost some money in that and he was advised to invest in gold, which is supposed to be a safer investment over time. Except the gold stolen from the bank the other day was his pension. He may be left with nothing!”

“I would always support him, and you”, I said firmly. “Surely he is insured, or the bank was?”

“They are saying that there is a problem with the paperwork”, Colt sighed. “You know how these big institutions are. They know full well that little people like us can never challenge them.”

I smiled knowingly.

“But sometimes we little people know some good big people who can take on the bad big people”, I said. “Is my father out just now?”

He smiled too.

“He needed comforting after the news this morning”, he said. “He is, uh, still upstairs.”

“Surely not this late of a morn....”

I stopped. Too late I had gotten it. So, I suspect, had my father. I shook my head at Colt who was smirking far too loudly in my opinion. Really, at his age!

֍

It seemed odd that it was two decades since I had gone to request the help of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then he and his friend Doctor Watson had been living in Cramer Street, and I knew that soon after then they had moved to the address that would become synonymous with them, 221B Baker Street. They had had many hair-raising adventures some of which the doctor had shared with the general public; I remember Mr. Holmes assuring me afterwards that mine would not be one of them unless I gave my permission and that I could not do that anyway until I had attained my majority. I had eventually decided against, society then being what it was.

Baker Street was a busy place but I eventually found 221B, a handsome building that was very clearly originally part of a much larger one as it had 221 and 221A adjoining it. I knocked at the door and was admitted, and was soon being shown into the gentlemen's room. They were nicer than the Cramer Street ones I remembered, but the cow eyes the two kept giving each other – seriously! And that made three gentlemen that I had seen with hickeys that day, as I had not seen my father..... no, I was not thinking about that! 

“I am here to request your help over the Dunston's Bank Robbery”, I said, sitting down. “It concerns the theft of a large number of gold bars which I am sure affects many people, one of whom is my father.”

“How is your father?” Mr. Holmes asked politely. “We saw him and Mr. Hamlin walking in Regent's Park the other week but we were in a carriage _en route_ to a meeting with a client so we could not stop.”

“As disgustingly in love as ever”, I sighed. “The way Colt stole the last piece of sausage off Father's plate at breakfast when I was round there the other day, and the look he got when he did it – I just shook my head at them both.”

Doctor Watson coughed, and I was sure I once again heard the word 'bacon' being muttered. Mr. Holmes looked sharply at him before turning back to me.

“Do you know anything about your father's financial arrangements?” he asked.

“I asked Colt when he told me about it”, I said. “He said that last year he had had to get a new financial adviser because the old one had retired. A Mr. Selmer I think he said the new one was; he was not sure of the spelling. Colt did not like him and he himself did not use the fellow.”

“The name is unfamiliar”, Mr. Holmes said, “but I can find out about him. I was surprised to read that Dunston's had been the victims of a robbery; I had always thought them one of the better banks.”

“Father works for the London City and Midland, which is in the process of buying Dunston's”, I said. “I was not sure if that is important, but Colt said to tell you anyway as you say that you need all the facts.”

“Mr. Hamlin is quite correct”, I said. “I shall make some inquiries and contact you through your card. I take it that your wife is well?”

I frowned.

“She is expecting our latest child next month”, I said. “Unfortunately we are to be plagued with a visit from her mother next week. The woman has one of those voices that make chalk being scraped on a blackboard sound almost pleasant! I wanted to hide out at the club but with Edie in her current state I cannot, worse luck.”

“I shall do my best for you”, Mr. Holmes promised.

֍

There was a minor social event later that week, the wedding of one of father's friends which he felt obliged to attend. Worse, because the parents of the intended were so straight-laced that they could have sold corsets, he was unable to take Colt. It was only a short walk from Father's house so he had walked there and I had arranged for a telegram to be sent informing him of an urgent family matter that required his attendance, for which he thanked me when I met him at his house later. He looked very down, I thought as he nestled closer into Colt's lap.

“Cheer up”, Colt said. “Things could be worse.”

“How?” my father asked morosely. One of the gentlemen that he had met at the affair had mentioned that he knew Colt from his, ahem, previous career and asked if my father rented him out at all. Father had not been best pleased and had told him where he could shove his request.

Colt smirked.

“Well, I could always tell Peter why the boys at the house called you Cuddle Bunny!”

Yes, _that_ successfully distracted Father. A very red-faced Father. Who was living up to his nickname without even being aware of it!

֍

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> † Neptune itself had been discovered in 1848 because of variations in the orbit of Uranus, but it would turn out in this case that the variations in Neptune's orbit were just miscalculations. Pluto, discovered in 1930, was originally estimated to be some 9,300 miles in diameter, about 15% larger than Earth and nearly seven times its actual size.  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

The following week Mrs. Cressida Dickson arrived and installed herself in our spare room (I had suggested the coal-bunker but Edie had just Looked at me). Impossibly my mother-in-law was even worse than I had remembered and I was never so glad that Mr. Holmes sent me a telegram that morning that he had some news for me. Although I knew from the Look that I got that my temporary escape would cost me a large box of chocolates for abandoning my wife to sustained ear-ache.

Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson received me at Baker Street. Well, Mr. Holmes did. The doctor looked in very poor shape and visibly winced as he sat down at the table. I did not need either Mr. Holmes' mile-wide smirk or the pointedly open window to know what had happened in here earlier that morning. At their ages!

“I have hopes that we may be able to bring Mr. Selmer at least to justice”, Mr. Holmes said. “My sources have been checking to see who those stolen gold bar were sold to and they have come out with a long list.”

“Is selling gold bars illegal?” I asked.

“It is if you sell more than twice the number of bars that you actually have and then stage a fake robbery to hide your crimes”, the detective smiled. “I believe that that was the actual reason for the supposed robbery. Have you seen the newspaper this morning?”

I blushed.

“I did not”, I said. “I had your telegram and what with my mother-in-law at full volume I abandoned the _'Times'_ to come here.”

“Mr. Selmer is in France”, Mr. Holmes said.

“That is terrible!” I fretted “We may never get the money back. Father will be ruined!”

“I think not”, Mr. Holmes said mysteriously. “I hope that we can get this case wrapped up in a week or so, although I may have to call on you at short notice.”

“For Father and Colt I will be ready”, I promised. “Especially if it gets me out of my mother-in-law's screeching distance!”

Both men smiled, although I caught the doctor wincing as he stood up at my departure. Really, as if I did not have to put up with enough of that sort of thing already!

֍

The following Saturday I called on on my father again, hoping to find him decent. Even though it was not short of lunch-time he was still in his dressing-gown, as was Colt. And did Father really have to sit almost right on top of the fellow like that?

“It is very good of Mr. Holmes to help us out”, my father smiled. “He is a most helpful gentleman.”

“And always so full of 'helpful' ideas!” Colt grinned mischievously. “That catalogue for that shop near him is _so_ inspirational!”

My father blushed fiercely. I just shook my head at Colt.

“Why did my father employ you in the first place?” I wondered.

The bastards both sniggered at me and cuddled even closer. Really!

֍

My concern about Father's finances was matched by the fact that the likely resolution to this case seemed perilously close to Edie's due date. However I was to be spared that particular problem thanks to my mother-in-law of all people!

Three days after I had visited Mr. Holmes, Colt came round looking very worried.

“Your father was called in by those stuffed suits who run his bank”, he told me. “They had heard somehow about his financial problems and told him he was 'letting their noble institution down'.”

“That is rich coming from a bunch of thieves who are not in gaol only because they skate around the edges of the law”, I said, sighing as Edie and the Motormouth entered the room. “Are you all right dear?”

“No better for seeing her father-in-law's bit on the side”, Miss Uncongeniality snarked. 

I was not sure how Colt might respond to that (all right, I admit I _was_ hoping for violence) but I would never know. At that moment my wife faltered and all but fell onto the couch.

“Edie?” I said anxiously.

“It is coming!” she gasped. 

“It cannot come now”, the shrew beside her said dismissively. “It is not time yet. Just hold it in, girl.”

“Shut up you silly old tart.”

All three of us stared at Colt in astonishment. Had he really said that?

“How _dare_ you address a lady like that!” the old dragon demanded.

“I see only one lady in this room and it certainly is not _you!”_ Colt said before turning to me. “Peter, send a servant to get your doctor and another to get towels and hot water. Mrs. Wolf, do you feel capable of making it to a bed?”

“I had the spare one downstairs made up”, I put in. My wife nodded.

“My daughter.....” began someone with whom I was fast losing patience. Colt strode across the room and she stepped back in alarm.

“Remove yourself to your room, woman”, he said angrily. “You are upsetting a _real_ lady.”

Mercifully the old bag flounced off at that and I rushed to open the door leading towards the spare room.

֍

The next hour of my life was almost surreal. Colt was the consummate professional in arranging everything and I could see that he was making my wife happier, or at least as happy as a lady in her situation could be. The baby seemed intent on making a rapid entrance into the world but Doctor Alcester arrived in time and helped to soothe poor Edie.

Incredibly my mother-in-law had taken such offence at Colt's words that she ordered her things packed and placed in the hall ready for her immediate departure unless That Dreadful Man came out and said sorry to her. Colt did indeed go to the door and said two things to her, the second one of which was 'off' (I definitely caught my wife giving him a thumbs-up despite her rather obvious preoccupations). And then I had a newborn son, who was screaming his general displeasure at the world until Edie gave him his first meal. I held her and thanked both Doctor Alcester and Colt for everything. 

“I would like to name him now”, Edie said suddenly. “If that is all right, Peter.”

She had chosen the names for all but our eldest son, but I could deny her nothing after what we had both been through. Although I prayed silently that her choice would not start with an 's'.

“Of course”, I said. “What are you thinking?”

She looked at my father's beloved friend.

“Kay‡”, she said. 

I handed Colt a tissue. Because.

֍

Edie herself insisted on Colt being formally invited to be godfather for his namesake, so I went round to my father's house to see him. Jameson (smirking far too much for any servant) told me that they were both still upstairs and he did not know when they might be down, so I wrote a short note and left it for them. I had already learned from bitter experience not to inquire too closely into things in the house that I had grown up in; the last time I had observed a curious emblem on Colt's cuff-links he had smirked while explaining that it was a letter T 'impaled' by a 'C'. Honestly!

Unfortunately I was fated to be unlucky once more. I was about to leave when I spotted something protruding under from the couch. Curious, I went over and pulled it out and.....

Oh my Lord what had I done to deserve this fresh hell? A pair of frilly purple panties and sewn into the back, one of those name-tags you usually find in a schoolboy's uniform – except that this one read 'Thomas Wolf'!

At that moment the door opened and my father came through, followed inevitably (and far too closely) by Colt. My father smiled at me in welcome, but his expression changed very quickly when he saw what I was holding. He looked utterly mortified!

“I do not suppose that you found the blue pair as well?” Colt said hopefully.

I glared at them both. Seriously, this was my life?

֍


	3. Chapter 3

“I feel out of place here.”

Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson had arranged to meet me in the Bank of England itself, and we were sat in a building where even the waiting-room had a ceiling decorated with painted cherubs. Mr. Holmes smiled.

“This is the Pecuniary Committee”, he explained. “They oversee all the city banks and sometimes step in if one fails.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it can be like a domino effect”, he said. “If one goes down it damages confidence in the others. Today they are reviewing the recent theft at Dunston's and seeing if they need to step in and rescue it.”

“Would they?” I asked dubiously.

“They will not”, he said confidently.

I was going to ask how he knew but at that moment the huge doors at the end of the room – seriously, one could have gotten an elephant through them! - opened and we were bade enter. Inside was an even grander room at the end of which was a set of tables arranged in a 'U' shape. Intimidating, I thought, and effective.

“These people allow the likes of us in?” I whispered to Doctor Watson.

“Sherlock has enough to send over half of them to gaol!” he grinned.

Mr. Holmes reached the centre of the 'U' and bowed to the chairman. There were six people sat either side of him, all stuffed suits and none of them in even the remotest danger of dying from hunger any time soon.

“I thank you for allowing me to speak with you today”, Mr. Holmes said. “Certain recent developments concerning the theft at Dunston's Bank, both immediately after and as recently as this morning, have necessitated my presence here today.”

The chairman nodded at him.

“Pray proceed”, he intoned.

“I at first thought Dunston's to be another bank robbery”, Mr. Holmes said. “It so happened however that I am acquainted with one of the people affected by it so I made inquiries on their behalf. The first thing I found was that the gold bars that had until recently been in the bank's vaults had in fact been sold twice over which I believe was the reason for the robbery. The fact that Dunston's is in the process of being taken over by the London City and Midland Bank also complicated matters, and as I dug deeper I became more suspicious.”

One of the twelve men stood up, an oily-looking slick-haired fellow of about fifty years of age.

“I do hope”, he said in a nasal tone, “that you are not impugning the reputation of _my_ bank, sir.”

Mr. Holmes smiled.

“Dunston's did not appear to have any obvious motive in this matter”, he said. “Their reputation for security was tarnished, although as they would shortly be subsumed into a larger institution that did not really matter. But absence of motive is not the same as motive. Mr. Crawley, your own institution, the London City and Midland, did not seem to benefit at all. I puzzled over the matter for some time – and then I had an idea.”

“I first looked at the vanished Mr. Selmer who, I suspected, it would be very easy to find. Indeed he was. Philip Selmer is working at a Paris branch of a British bank – except that he has been there these past three years during which time he has never left France! The French police confirmed for me that he has recently been the recipient of several large cheques from a certain bank in this country – I shall not name them although I am sure all you assembled here can guess which one it was – and that under questioning he has named names. The adviser who provided his customers with 'Mr. Philip Selmer, London City and Midland Bank' cards was in fact a chimaera, someone whose sole purpose in life was to defraud as many people as possible into buying gold – which people are particularly wont to do after a crash – and to then disappear along with both the cash and the gold.”

“You are not I hope impugning Mr. Crawley in all this?” the chairman asked archly.

“I am afraid that the gentleman currently standing may have some explaining to do, and not just to this committee”, Mr. Holmes said. “For one thing, the Metropolitan Police arrested his son Uriah this morning and he has already confessed to playing the part of the chimaeric Mr. Selmer until recently. He also confessed to rather more.”

He nodded to Doctor Watson who produced an envelope and walked up to the chairman. He took out a photograph and placed it on the table before withdrawing.

“I did not believe that the thieves would risk transporting gold across our city when there was no need”, Mr. Holmes said, eyeing Mr. Crawley. “This is a photograph of the cellars on the building that adjoins Dunston's Bank, and which rather oddly seems to be have acquired a lot of gold bars recently. They have of course all been removed to a place of safety since, I am pleased to tell you. And I also found out who owns that property.” He looked hard at the man standing before adding, “one Mr. Ahab Crawley.”

The standing man sank back down, eyeing the detective hatefully.

“Now”, Mr. Holmes said firmly, “we come to the unsavoury part of my job. Much as I would wish to see the Crawleys face the consequences of their actions, we assembled here all know that with the markets the way they are just now another scandal would cause a crash and for many innocent people to suffer. I am prepared to use my influence to allow this man to flee the country with his family - _under certain conditions.”_

The chairman looked around the other men, all of whom nodded. Some quite fervently, I noted.

“Go on”, the chairman said. 

“The Bank of England will honour the full value of the investments of the people duped by this ramp”, he said. “In full, otherwise I may be tempted to extend my inquiries to see which other institutions knew about this deal. And that could lead to a large number of arrests, maybe even of those.... at the very top of things.”

He looked pointedly around the room. Not one of the men could meet his eyes.

“Of course”, the chairman said. “Anything else?”

Mr. Holmes looked at him sharply.

“A policeman friend of mine often remarks that the only difference between rich people and criminals is that the former know how to skate around the edges of the law without falling in”, he said pointedly. “Be assured, gentlemen, that if there are any more 'incidents' like this then I shall undertake a full and searching inquiry into every institution represented here today. And regardless of the consequences I _shall_ make my findings public. Have a good day.”

And with that he swept from the room, with us in his wake.

֍

I knew, because Mr. Holmes told me later, that he also had a word with the men in charge of my father's bank as he feared (from experience, he told me) that they might seek retribution against him for his being involved in this matter. Fortunately none ensued, and my father was delighted when all his money was safely returned to him.

Although I really could have done without being told by Colt, round to see his new godson, just how they had 'celebrated' their success. Him _and_ his 'Cuddle Bunny'!

֍

**Author's Note:**

> ‡ The Arthurian knight Sir Colgrevance was most likely some sort of relation to King Arthur's foster brother and seneschal (steward) Sir Kay. This is because Colgrevance derives from 'Kay The Gallant', and the knight after whom this character was named was courteous, charming and everything that Sir Kay was palpably not.


End file.
